


almosts.

by spacershepards



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:26:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacershepards/pseuds/spacershepards
Summary: times like these, she can't sleep. so instead, she remembers.





	

Often, there are times that she will not be able to sleep, because a pair of brown eyes is glaring into her skin from memories. Often, there are times that she will lay in tangled sheets in a bed she should've made that morning, in a bed that she so easily could've been sharing with a man who is now dead.

(He's dead. Dead. _Dead_. She wonders if it hurt when he fell, when he hit the ground. She wonders if he died near where she did. She wonders who he thought of when he died – for her, every time she almost does, it's _always_ him.)

Late at night, when she is too tired to function, but not tired enough to sleep, she will end up sitting on the rooftop of her tiny apartment on Chorus. She'll look out over the skyline, over the sleeping lives playing out before her. Sometimes, she will spot someone through a window – a couple kissing, or perhaps a child being carted off to bed by their parents.

(She misses him. She misses his eyes, his hands with hers, their limbs a mismatched tangle. She misses the way he used to smile, the way he used to frown, the way he used to laugh. She misses everything about him, everything that got pulled apart when he lost his voice, when he threw her off a cliff.

She misses his touch, but most of all, she misses the almosts.)

It's sights like these that will hurt her the most.

(Losing him almost hurts more, but _he_ never truly had _her_ , now did he? Agent Carolina, a combination of mistakes and failures and her father's bitterness and her own faulty ambition. Agent Maine, broken too soon. Both of them, broken by the Project, pulled apart. Pulled apart far too soon.)

They'll hurt for many reasons – for a life she never had, for a past she once had, for everything that she never will have.

(They could've gotten married. Could've left the Project. Could've had children together, or could've adopted a few dogs, or could've lived alone. She can picture a house by the shore, away from glistening white snow, away from war-torn planets. She can picture waking up next to Maine every morning. Waking up next to him in the middle of the night, the two of them cradling each other until the nightmares dry out.)

During nights like these, she will sit with her legs dangling six stories off the ground, a cool night breeze rustling through her hair and barely touching her skin, a gun at her hip for worst case scenarios.

She might even wonder if six stories is too low to the ground, if a taller building would provide a much better vantage point.

(She remembers sitting with him once, her head on his shoulder – one of the few times either of them truly let themselves be vulnerable. She remembers tracing one of the tattoos on his arm with her eyes, and him resting his chin atop her head for a moment. She remembers falling into bed with him, tangled together. She remembers laughing and smiling and kissing and things that sometimes make her wish she had amnesia, because it would be so much better if she could just _forget_ them.)

If six stories hurts much to fall.

( _She's_ fallen farther and survived, hasn't she? Maybe he's out there, somewhere, surviving. Getting by. Wondering if she could've survived, too.)

There are many times like these, and there will be many more. For the rest of her life, Agent Carolina will wonder how easy it could've been for her to have had a very different life. For the rest of her life, Agent Carolina will mourn the lives she never had.

(Wife. Mother. Better, better, _better_.)

And for the rest of her life, Agent Carolina will wish that she could have taken _his_ place.


End file.
